Seeds of Pain
by tiggerjojo
Summary: The last year of school has arrived, Harry has lost himself from hope and into pain. Voldemort has such power he choose instead of killing Harry to implant in him a seed of darkness that is slowly killing him, eating him alive. HD slash
1. 1

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Seeds of Pain

I don't want to feel. So, please stop looking, stop pushing, just leave me alone. Your eyes are so cold, they demand my attention, stop it. Please I beg you to stop it. I came back, just one last year that's all, then I am free but you, you won't stop. You mock me, scorn everything I have in my life, you destroy it. I have nothing left, don't you see that? You have so much but you still take. All you want is more; all you want is to destroy me. I can't take it anymore. No more mask, no more smile, no more you. Leave me.

Harry pov

I look down at that which I have written. Neat, fluid and graceful. So different from the chicken scratch of last year. Then though, there was no pain such as this. Then was only happiness. Things didn't matter then, they didn't require such time or concentration. Now, such pain. 

I remember things from the past but they are just things. I can't feel those memories anymore; they have no color and no emotion. They are simply things that happened and that is all. This summer had many colors, those colors I wish I could forget, those colors of pain.

The day I got back, he was waiting, Voldemort. He killed all I had left for a family, although it was a cruel and uncaring family, it was all I had left. I had nothing. He destroyed it all, even Hedwig and my wand. He knew how to hurt me now, he could kill me anytime he wanted but he hated me so much as to take away everything. Now, I have nothing left to fight for. Then, before he left me to my despair, he implanted something with in me. A seed of pure darkness. 

It grows within me, slowly. Everyday, feeding off my life, hope, dreams. It hurts, the pain grows with it, I believe it feeds off that as well. It **will** kill me. Voldemort promised me that, within the year he said I would die in the most horrendous agony I could imagine, all alone. 

It takes all I possess to remember to breath, to write anything is more than I can handle. My grades, hardly exist anymore. I can't do the assignments and magic is impossible, the pain from it is almost impossible to describe. My teachers think I am rebelling, they are all so disappointed in me but they don't know.

I haven't told them, haven't told anyone. I believe I deserve this pain. I believe I shouldn't have lived in the first place. I wouldn't have come back here at all if they hadn't found me. On the streets, living in boxes, eating out of garbage cans. They thought I had lost my mind, they didn't understand me. Even when they discovered the destruction of the Durselys they asked me why I didn't seek help from others. Contact a witch or wizard to help me. They didn't understand that I did not wish to be found. 

Pain sweeps through my body, clutching my heart radiating throughout my chest. I gasp, suppressing the cries of agony. Afraid that I will wake those slumbering peacefully around me. Tears slip down my cheeks as the pain clenches and holds then subsides slowly, leaving me with only the dull aching throb that is constant now.   
I breathe deeply, once then again, slipping the spiral notebook that has become a sort of diary to me, under my pillow. I lay down upon it. Pulling the covers up around my head, heavy thick. I've four comforters upon my bed, bribed from the house elves. They won't tell but they can't spare anymore and I'm still so cold, always cold. Curl my legs up to my chest, hold myself tightly together and be a child in my mother's womb again. I rest my eyes, closing them softly and slow my body down. I force my body to stillness to rest it but my mind is caught forever in conscious wakefulness. 

Thinking, always thinking. For the many hours my body rests my mind does nothing but think. I try to use such time, reviewing all my lessons, over and over again until I can recite them by heart, only in such a deep sleep is the inner consciousness and the vaults of knowledge opened. I read a lot now; it gives me much to think of at night, without it all I think of is the past. I hate the past.

If anyone cared, if anyone knew they would realize that over the last month I have been here I have read almost more than Hermione, but it's not enough. The pain gets worse and library grows thin. I cannot fathom anymore what the future holds for me but pain and death. I think by the time such comes, I will welcome it with open arms. 

Dawn, morning has come and the pain will not allow me to remain still any longer. I rise, suppressing the pain for what I can, trying to ignore something so impossible to ignore. Everyday the pain strikes worse and worse, soon it will catch me most vulnerable, in a classroom, away from the safety of my desk where I can huddle amid myself and ride it out without bringing suspicion. I'm running out of time for such luck.

I walk to the shower, each step slow and measured. To have to concentrate on such a task seems ludicrous and it would be for anyone but me. 

The water, spraying from the showerhead, seducing my body with the unimaginable heat. The pain isn't as bad in water; perhaps the seed within takes its moister and relinquishes its hold of the pain. The heat scalds my skin but its better that way. It cascades over my body, thin and pale, nutrition lost to the greedy thing living within me. My hair strays over my shoulders and touches the shoulders of my back. It was long when I left last year but the summer left no way for a haircut so it grew to what it is now. Long, wild, black, it's as if it seeks to escape the pain by growing out, by running away from the source. 

I turn of the water slowly and stand in the rising billows of steam enjoying the feeling it licks upon my skin the way it makes me feel lost again. Then the pain resurfaces with a vengeance and my legs give out under me. Collapsing on the hard wet tiled floor, wrapping myself as tightly as I can, shaking with the pain. I cry softly, the salt of my eyes slipping down to mix with the water gathered on the floor but such pain cannot be indulged like this as always. Soon the others will wake and I can't let them see me, they will know if they see me. 

I force myself to stand, stumbling blindly along the wall of the showers, pausing at a sink, surrendering my weight atop its molded porcelain. My eyes catch the mirror above the sink reflecting a person I don't know. I wipe the mirror with my arm, staring blatantly at the mirror's face that is I. Black, damp hair sticks to my forehead, hiding the scar, the blackness contrasting violently with the pallor of my skin making it seem as if I am even paler than I am. Iridescent, green eyes watch me, too big for my face, filled with pain and desolation. My chest, gleaming from the water still clinging to it reflects black. Since a couple weeks ago the black vine like tendrils have appeared upon my chest, like a stain upon my skin, spreading out from where my heart is, from where the pain is. I look away and walk back out to my bed. 

At the end of my bed sits a gleaming new chest, filled with clothing all brand new, paid for by the ministry and Dumbledore. I pull out a black sweater, tight to my skin, spelled to fit just right and a loose pain of jeans that barely grip my waist. I then pull out one of the heavy cloaks I specially requested, pulling it over myself, donning the deep hood and feeling the emitting warmth from the heavy wool lining but, still cold. I shiver silently, thinking about the outrage of the teachers when I had first shown up similarly attired. I had refused to wear the school uniform, too cold, and had refused to remove the cloak, refused to show my face. They gave up eventually but they still hate me for it. At least in the heavy darkness of the cloak I am hidden. 

The others are stirring, Ron rolling out of bed first and stumbling to the showers followed by Seamus, Dean then Neville, not one noticing me. A shout echoes out of the showers, followed by Ron's cursing to whoever left the hot water turned on. I can't find it in myself to smile or even acknowledge the humor in it. It takes too much energy. So instead I wrap myself within my cloak and slowly descend the stairs down to the common room then out and towards the dinning hall.

I walk down the narrow hall, avoiding the main halls to take lesser traveled ones, accepting the added pain for the protection of being unseen, unencountered by anyone. Someone comes, it is inevitable but annoying none the less. I slow my walk, listening to the approaching footsteps. They are so sure footed and heavy, swift as if late for something, full of pride and hidden angry pain. I know those foot steps, they are those of Draco Malfoy's. I think we are alike in some ways although it took me a lot of painful thinking to realize that and because of the revelation I can no longer stay angry at him.

I move to the side of the hall but as he passes his hand jets out and shoves me, glancing over his shoulder and yelling back, "Watch it, Potter!" But I can't hear.

I wasn't expecting the shove or the force of the wall and as it happened my fragile control of the relentless pain revived itself and exploded within my chest. I cried out involuntarily, choking back those cries coming after as I fell hitting the stone floor. The pain is so intense, stronger than I have experienced before, the pain has grown once more. 

I can feel my body shaking and my own breath laboring in my ears. I clutch my chest, fighting it for, trying to fight it, to remain conscious. My knees curl up to my chest and my back presses against the wall. I feel tears reappear again and hit open air, for my hood had fallen back when I had collapsed. The pain diminishes slowly and my breathing calms. I rest my head upon the cold stone floor, trying to regain my strength. Someone is watching me.

I look up and he's still there, watching, his eyes reflecting some sort of shock, a little bit of horror. I thought he would've continued on, kept walking and left me. He stayed, he saw, he knows. I push myself up, leaning heavily upon the wall, all the while watching him. I step forward, a single calculated step, as I do he makes to bolt, stepping back and guiding his hands upon the wall. I gather my self, emitting a single word, drifting upon the air, "Wait." Though he has no reason, he stops watching me once again.

"You can not tell anyone." I whisper, a violent shiver wracking my weak form, the pain fluctuating with each word, grinding my teeth I continue, "No one must know." 

His eyes narrow and he steps back a pace, the shock wearing off. Pressing forward though the pain a last desperate whisper, "Please, Draco." I breath deeply, trying to regain the hold of the pain watching Draco as he finally draws himself up and asks, "What the hell is wrong with you, Potter?" 

I stare at him darkly, "I'm dieing."

He frowns then laughs, looking at me with cold humor in his eyes and sarcasm heavily threaded through his voice, "The boy who lived can't die, Potter, what would your adoring followers think? You're twisted and fucked up, Potter. No one's going to believe that phony act."

A shiver passes through my body and I slide across the wall, past Draco, "I hope so." He turns and watches me, surprise reflected in his eyes. So many emotions I have never seen on his face before, without the scowl it seems so much more beautiful, more pure. I leave him behind and regain my track down to the dinning hall.

There the noise is incredible, echoing laughter and shouting voices, drilling into my skull like blows, causing the pain to flare and grow with each moment. I draw upon the silence of my mind, finding solace there. I eat as much as my stomach will allow, unaware that I have been ignoring those I once called friends. 

Usually I am more careful about responding but today has already taken its toll on me. I rise from the table, ignoring Hermione and Ron's calls after me. I follow the main hallways and return to my dorm, collapsing upon my bed and shutting my body down, two attacks so early tolled my body too greatly to continue with the game of school.

I wake later, if you can call it that, my body rested. Sitting up I glance at the clock, if I choose I can arrive at my last class, potions. I rise, balancing my weight, picking up one of the library books on the rising pile beside I leave the dorm and head for the dungeons reaching them ten minutes late from the start of the class.

Snape stands at the front, lecturing about some up coming potion that we are to be working on. He stops as I enter, his normal hatred for me amplified by my current tardiness, not to mention the other times I have been tardy or skipped his class all together since school started. I slip over to the closest bench, easing into the hard wooden surface and propping the book open to where I last stopped reading.

A voice destroying my reverie, "Since Mr. Potter seems so well prepared for my class, seeing as he has missed the last and is late for this one, perhaps he would like to tell us what the mixture of liquid Forigan extract, enchants of heran and dried nettle plant produce?"

I rest my arms upon the table, slowly reading each sentence with total concentration, not glancing up I slowly reply, "It could produce, in variation, a powerful illusion potion, a potion to cause extreme pain or a laxative. Depending on the mixture, quantity and way of creation." Stopping I close my eyes, pressing the pain down before I continue reading. It's difficult to speak but easier then after an attack, such as with Draco. Glancing over I notice him watching curiously, swallowing I continue reading and remain doing so for the entire period. Snape not asking another question nor disciplining me. Not that detention does any good, I never come.

The class ends and I return to my dorm and my bed, sleeping through the rest of the day and night, only to wake to another day of pain and endless irony. 


	2. 2

(a/n: I know that the previous part/chapter was written in present tense but present tense bugs me so I've switched to past tense and because I'm lazy I've left the first part/chapter as is. So no whining about it, please?)

"This spell is vital to auror or wizarding patrols, it can also be used for cheating on tests and other things which is why it not taught. However, the Headmaster has assured me that new spells have been placed to make sure that only place this spell can be performed and used, is outside of the castle and the main dining hall, where we are now." The new defense against dark arts teacher, Mistress Civis, drew herself up, her pale blue hair and dark skin almost hiding the wrinkles just starting to appear upon her delicate face, "The basic principle of the spell is a linking of minds, so that two wizards can speak without giving away their hiding place or communicate a plan of attack or escape without the enemy knowing. The spell is a simple one for the most part but can be fickle and tends to break without adequate attention or power. However, too much power or concentration will suck the weaker partner into the stronger partners mind. it's a very unsettling experience but not deadly or permanent. Best if we avoid it anyway though, alright?

"We've been studying the principals behind this spell for about a week now and I think that you are ready to begin attempting the usage of it. I will be putting you into groups of two and if you can accomplish the spell successfully we will test you and your partners range ability by standing at opposite sides of the hall and trying to send messages. For the most of you half the distance of the hall will be your maxim range. This is normal, there are very few that can range a distance as long as this hall.

"As a side note, the Headmaster has informed me that everyone will be participating whether he or she so feels inclined or not. I fully agree, this childish behavior of skipping out of classes, not finishing assignments or even attempting spells in class is just getting out of hand. Some people need to grow up, I think." She glares in my direction.

The Slytherin part of the class laughed outright at me, the Gryffindors stood in an awkward, embarrassed silence. Everyone looks down on me for what I've been doing, and everyone is ever so disappointed. 

I leaned back upon one of the tables, clutching my fragile self-control together. What month was it? How long have I been like this again? I asked myself. The Christmas holiday starts tomorrow so I've inured this seed for almost seven months, over half of my remaining time is gone. Perhaps even less, I think that I am much too weak to live an entire year, I may very well kill myself if it gets much worse of maybe I'll just go to sleep and never wake up again. I looked at my hands cautiously, their gloved fingers staring up at me accusingly. The black, tendril roots of the seed had spread from my chest, since last month and now entwine my wrists and work their way down my legs. I can wear only turtlenecks now or else show the climbing tendrils upon my neck. I have discovered that after each attack the vines are longer, thicker and stronger. Each time the pain increases the vines have reached another nerve, another muscle to eventually destroy. 

"…And that leaves Mr. Malfoy paired with Mr. Potter. Everyone get started then alright?" 

I looked up slowly as everyone melted away, dispersing around the hall in groups of two. Draco walked haughtily over to the bench I was sitting on. Swinging his leg over he straddled the bench easily, glaring at me with cold eyes and a smirk upon his lips. 

"Well then, Potter, shall we get started? Unlike you I actually care about my grades."

I nodded slowly.

"Still dying I see." He sneered arrogantly, "Take off your gloves and look at me Potter, we have to have skin to sin contact and eye contact to make this work. If you were remember from class, if you were even listening in class."

"Perhaps," I whispered, shuddering slightly, "It would be best if we did not do this. You…don't want to be inside my thoughts. I don't want to know my pain." 

He snorted, "Yeah, right. Your pain, always the drama queen. Perhaps your more worried about screwing up?" He smirked at this.

"I haven't done a any magic for over seven months," I whispered with a shudder.

"Like I'm going to believe that." Draco snapped impatiently.

He grabbed my hand impatiently and pulled my gloves off. An eyebrow raised as he regarded the black lines that snaked around my wrists.

"Nice paintjob, Mr. Haven't used magic forever." Draco pointed out acidly as he pulled off my gloves.

I could feel my nerves growing taunt, a sign I had learned that had become the only warning of a coming attack, of the seed growing stronger.

I tried to pull away from him but his grip was strong, or perhaps it was that he was not weak.

"Don't." I said weakly.

He ignored me, "Do you remember the words of the spell?" he demanded.

I felt anger rise within, I hadn't felt any emotions for so long, it figures that it would be Draco to bring them back the surface. I hated him for knowing my secret and I hated for his cruelty, I hated him for removing my glove and for not caring just like everyone else. He thinks that I am lying about dying, about the pain. I'll show him what he does not believe show him true torture.

"I remember." I said softly, desperately holding back the tide of pain threatening to engulf me. I placed my hands against his and closed my eyes. As soon as we had touched the words flowed out of us in unison. It all came so easily, I barely had to think about it. The spell initiated and I felt his mind settle next to mine.

_That wasn't so difficult. _Draco said arrogantly in my mind, _You alright, dieing boy?_

Let me show you what dieing feels like. I snarled back and I grabbed his consciousness brutality, tying it to my own mind as the pain hit its crescendo.

I opened my eyes to the sounds of his screams as he fell from the bench to the floor. I watched as he curled into the fetal position I knew so well and all the while I marveled at my freedom from the pain. I stood, ever such an easy and simple motion, and stood over his shaking, sobbing form.


	3. 3

Mistress Civis ran over, her eyes flickering over Draco lying on the floor and back up to me. She quickly performed the reversal spell upon us. Before I could even think to respond Draco's mind was wrenched from my grasp and I was once more fully aware of my pain. 

My legs gave out under me and I fell to my knees. Air rushed into my lungs in gasping sobs and left in dry heaving coughs. I choked for a minute as something foreign filled my throat and as I leaned over blood spilled from my mouth onto the stone cobbles. I wept involuntarily as blood continued to drip from my mouth, my tears mixing with. I watched in horrid fascination as the roots pulsated darkly and slowly forced their way upon my hand and curling around my fingers. I could feel them forging new paths down my legs, and up from neck they crept to my cheeks and face. In that moment I wanted so much to die, it was unbearable, like millions of red-hot needles piercing my entire body, inside and out. 

"…Oh my god…." 

I weakly lifted my head, the eyes of half the class or more watched my in shock. Hermione turned white and her eyes rolled back in her head as she fainted, Ron catching her stiffly in his arms. 

I slowly pushed myself to my feet and stood before them. At the front of the group, Draco stood watching me, a mixture of fear, wonder and sympathy was his expression, more emotion than I had ever seen him display since I had known him. 

"Now do you believe me?" I asked him softly, my question catching the dead air and echoing around the silent hall. 

He nodded mutely.

I lifted a single shaking hand and carefully wiped the blood from my chin.

"I think both you and Mr. Malfoy need to visit the hospital wing…I've never seen a reaction like this from this spell, from any spell." Mistress Civis paused and violent shook her head, "The rest of you return to your dorms until your next class." She ordered, "NOW!" she bellowed, when they were reluctant to move.

I could feel my entire body shaking, hear my labored breathing in my ears. I knew the day would come when I could no longer hide what was happening. Today was that day.

Mistress Civis, then began to lead us to the hospital wing, her complexion was pale and she seemed very worried. When I stumbled and almost fell, I was surprised when it was Draco who steadied me, pulling one of my arms over his shoulder, and not the teacher. The closer and closer to the hospital wing we got the more I found myself stumbling and slowing. My eyesight began to grow dark and spots appeared upon my vision. 

As the door to the wing swung open I whispered, "Need…bed…lie down."

I was slowly led, practically dragged to a bed which I managed to drag myself onto before losing all strength and sinking into unconsciousness. 

In my mind a war raged, filled with pain and blood. Far away I felt my body shudder and cough up more blood. I ran from those feelings, I retreated to the darkest most hidden part of mind and there I found something I had not expected. There, was a single fragile thread of power and magic, the remains of the connection created by that spell. I carefully followed it to the edge of Draco's mind. Far away, from his ears I could hear the sound of people talking. Behind me, the pain was catching up, following my retreating consciousness, demanding that I participate in the growing pain.

I pressed myself against Draco's mind and cried out to him, begging sanctuary from him. I doubted that he would allow me into his mind, considering what had happened before, I doubted that he would even feel me there outside his mind, but he did. He opened his mind to me, allowed me to slip inside his, sterile, pain free mind. I huddled there, refraining from touching any of his personal thoughts or the workings of his mind for fear of him pushing me back into my own. 

I could feel his silent scrutiny of me. I remained still as he studied me, for a moment his attention was drawn away from me but he returned and opened to me the use of his eyes and ears.

"You say that when your minds touched for the spell everything was normal then?"

It was the voice of Dumbledore.

"Yes." Draco said flatly, "I said something to him, I can't remember what, through the spell, through the link of our minds and he said, 'Let me show you what dieing feels like.' I was like he grabbed hold of my mind and forced it in the place of his own….I've never felt pain like that…I can't even imagine_…"_

"Then what happened?" Dumbledore asked.

Draco remained silent as Mistress Civis explained about my collapse, the blood and tears. Draco looked at me, lying huddled upon the bed. It was horrendously unsettling to look at myself. I looked so pale and thin, the roots of the seed, pulsated slowly upon my skin. Every now and then they would grow and push farther along my flesh. 

I mentally recoiled, sickened by what I saw.

"I don't understand how such a violent reaction could happen from such a simple spell." Mistress Civis whispered diminutively.

"I don't think it was from your spell, rest assured of that, Cheryl. I think it was something the boy had before."

Draco shook his head slowly as he turned back to Dumbledore, "A couple months ago I bumped into Potter and he collapsed, he said he was dieing and I asked me not to tell any one. I didn't believe him, thought he was just trying to get more attention, he said that he hoped it appeared that way. I thought he was just shitting with me but, that pain was real, too real."

"He's getting worse." Pomphery said shakily, Draco spun around to see her, holding my limp wrist, counting my pulse and watching my shuddering breathing.

"If only we knew what it was, there has to be some sort of clue. Perhaps he told one of his friends?" Dumbledore muttered.

"I'll go get them!" Mistress Civis exclaimed a little too eagerly. 

"Don't bother." Draco said icily, "We'll just ask Potter and he can tell us."

"Mr. Malfoy," Dumbldore responded patiently, "Harry is uncurious and too weak to respond to anything."

"Yes, his body perhaps, but somehow, a tenuous link from the earlier spell managed to remain and Potter's consciousness is currently residing in here." He tapped his head, "Tell us, Potter," He demanded then, out loud for the benefit of the others, "Or I'll put force you back into you body, you know I would and use my voice, I'll not be you message boy."

Fearing the pain of my body more than anything these others could inflict, I replied softly, unused to Draco's voice, "The one who implanted it within me, he called it a seed of pure darkness."

"Who?" Demanded Dumbledore urgently.

"Voldemort."


	4. 4

Dumbledore's eyes grew round with shock and his hand went to his forehead, massaging his temples, "This is bad, very bad. I've heard of the seed of darkness, it's essentially a spell that turns the body on itself, forcing it to slowly and painfully destroy itself over time."

Pomphery paled and looked down upon my body with fear, "There's an antidote isn't there? A counter spell?"

Dumbledore shook his head, "Not if it was Voldemort that inflicted it upon him, if it had been a weaker wizard the spell might have been overridden but healing potions and spells….I, I don't know what to do…." His head sunk in defeat.

"He'll die?" Someone whispered in a horrified tone.

"Yes." was Dumbledore's quiet response as he walked over to a chair against the wall and collapsed into it.

"Well can't he just fight it?" Draco snipped.

"If it's gotten this far then I very much doubt it….why didn't you tell us Harry? Why my boy? If you had known why didn't you tell us, in it's earliest stages it might have been stopped. Why?" He looked first at my body on the bed that up to Draco, his eyes imploring desperately.

I backed away from that look I ran from that question because the answer was not one they wanted to hear but Draco pushed against me, forcing me once again to answer of face the agony of my own body.

_Quit running, Potter._ He snarled

"I…" I stuttered to a stop, closing Draco's eyes so that I wouldn't have to see his expression, but as soon as Draco realized what I was doing he opened them, he made me look out of his eyes and meet Dumbledore imploring stare, "I didn't want you to know…."

"But why!?" Dumbledore snapped angrily.

And I said what I known all these long months, "I wanted to feel the pain, I wanted to be hurt and I wanted to die, I didn't want to be saved, that's why I didn't tell you. I would have never told you if I could have."

The words came out harsh and angry and even though they were carried on Draco's voice the words were, all too mine and everyone knew it, they all knew and sat in their own moments of silent shock, even Draco.

But then it was all disrupted by Malfoy's angry voice as he yelled at me both out loud and inside his mind, "_You fucking coward! You'd just run away like that, and leave us all here to deal with all this shit you left behind!? You are the destined to kill him in the prophesy and what do you do?! You decided to throw us to the fucking wolves so that you can drown in your own self-pity and die! Fuck you, Potter! If you want to die so badly then reap the consequences of your actions and die with the pain you have brought upon yourself!_"

He forced me from his mind in a single violent shove, slamming the door shut on his mind and locking me from it. The pain came upon me and my mind was raw, having taken that time of freedom from that pain, that moment of sanity and all the pain was forced back upon me. My body came mine once more and all my pain, I screamed, I screamed until my voice was hoarse and my voice gave out. I felt in my mind not only the pain of my actions but the truth of what Draco had said to me. I knew that it was true, that I had run away and hid in my own self-pity but if I could have just died there would be no more. He had taken that away from me, that guilt free death of ego and self loathing. For the first time since I had gotten the seed I fought.

I poured my anger and all my energy in to the thing I could hurt, that seed that had started it all. I realized through the haze of my retaliation and anger a desperate unwavering need for revenge. This was no longer a fight to save other, to avenge my parents or Sirius or any of the others that died. I wanted him dead I wanted him to feel the pain that I felt and I wanted it more desperately than I had ever wanted anything in my life.

I fought against that spell, I fought against my own body, I fought for control of it. I could feel distantly that I was convulsing and writhing on that bed and I had before lay motionless as I slowly died.

I furrowed into myself, drawing out reserves of power I hadn't even know. I found the knowledge that even though I had not been consciously fighting the seed I had been none the less, else I would have been devoured within a matter of days as I had seen in that rapid growth when I had left my body.

My strength began to ebb and the darkness began to close in on me. I wrenched open my eyes, looking up at the faces of those I respected and hated and I cried out in fury at my helplessness. I saw Draco over my, holding down one of my arms, Professor Dumbledore on the other side and I knew again that searing moment of truth and abandon.

I had no strength left, I could feel the seed developing even faster as it made it's way into my mind and my heart. My lungs refused to open, my hearts beat became erratic and frantic as it struggled to keep me alive. Tears spilled in a last cry for survival, for pain and life. Then it all stopped, I felt my body die, one organ at a time, my eyes fogging as I remained trapped helpless within my body, waiting those inevitable minutes it would take before my mind would cease to function and I would die.

All that I had gone through, all the friends I had gained and the people I had saved, I was going to leave them. I was going to leave them in the hands of a mad man. A man that would kill them in much the same way that he had killed me. He would kill them because they had known me.

I reached out into myself in my very last vestiges of my mind and consciousness. I forced myself against the walls of my humanity with the will of my need to live, my pain and happiness, all my memories, good and bad flooded within me and I pushed at those seems until I had found ever piece of myself except one. Buried deep within myself I found something that was not mine, something that had caused all this pain, I found Voldemort.

I could feel him, watching my as I died. I could feel his triumph his elation at what he had done and it was then, in the last precious moments of true thought and life that I snapped. I reached that unreachable point of anger and fury that few beings ever reach and I exploded. I destroyed that thing in my mind. I shredded it down to the last visages of it's existence I shattered my mind and all its confinement, I reached and spread my consciousness across the entire existence. I stood before the gods of the earliest and greatest power and I demanded an explanation I demanded from them a reason and they could give me none. I asked nothing more from them but showed to them my life and my anger. I showed to them my every waking moment and in exchange for that view into the world long deigned to them they gave me back myself and what was left of their power and knowledge; and like what I had been done to me I took them into my consciousness and made them a part of myself. I took their power and confined it within my body.

I returned to my mind, and body, past death and consciousness, already cooling and I destroyed the seed of darkness, started my heart once more, and took the first breath of my re-birth.


End file.
